They stared into the emptiness that they had had fled because of hatred. Yet even in spite of rational thought, they were going to go back, and as Bruenor had said, “back to hell”. It truly was hell for Ranoth, even more so now that he had seen how welcoming the surface really was. It was the only place that he had ever known that welcomed him; in his house he was a reject. He was a male to begin with, and the youngest family member; degrading him even more. To make matters worse he was not much a fighter, and he didn’t use magic very well, so he was basically useless in the family. So he went from a useless family reject, to a fair fighter with a dwarf friend. He considered Bruenor a friend, or the closest thing to a friend that he had ever had. So into the tunnels the pair went…

********

“Are you really sure you want to go back?” Ranoth asked Bruenor again, still trying to get out of a most risky situation.
“God damn it Ranoth!! Haven’t ye heard a bloody word I’ve been saying?” Bruenor yelled back in his usual stubborn dwarven tone.
“Yes, but-,” Ranoth paused and looked at the ground by his feet, “I’m trying to get out of death here!”
“So what if we die?”
“See the thing is that I have nothing to throw my life away on! I have no reason to die for nothing!” Ranoth yelled back.
“You have me,” Bruenor stated, immediately knowing he would regret it in the end.
“What?” Ranoth asked, surprised at what the dwarf said.
“Ye’re the only friend I’ve got left, no family, only one friend, and that’s why I’m going to kill that bastard that murdered my only family member,” Bruenor answered, revealing what he truly thought.
“Well then, I guess we’re ‘of to kill the witch, the horrible witch of Menzoberrazan’” Ranoth said, chuckling as the pair continued on through the Tunnels and ‘back to hell’…

When Bruenor heard Ranoth’s song he too let out a chuckle, they were both laughing. Laughing at death. As they got deeper and deeper into the tunnels they both had to make frequent stops so their eyesight could adjust to the darkness. Although dwarves can see underground drow can better. This might have been a fact that saved them.

As they continued along Ranoth held up his hand signing stop. In the underdark voices can mean death so sign was used. Bruenor and Ranoth stopped. *What is it?* Bruenor signed.
*Drow, looks like raiding party.* Ranoth signed back.
*Can we take them?* Bruenor questioned.
*I guess…*
“For me brudder!!” Bruenor screamed as he ran into the midst of the drow group.
“Damn fool.” Ranoth muttered as he slunk into the mêlée. The drow had been surprised at the appearance of a crazed dwarf in their midst. Before they had time to react the group of four was down the three, one having Bruenor’s hand axe in his head. Somehow through the roaring chaos Bruenor and Ranoth both got their backs together. They spun around, a whirling maelstrom of death. This maneuver did them little good except that they weren’t dead yet. The fight separated into two separate fights with Bruenor and the other with Ranoth. Ranoth managed to pin one of his opponents arms to the wall and his dagger made short work of that drow. Now it was two on two. The reaming two drow advanced cautiously knowing two of their kin were dead. Soon they would clash and the victor would stand tall.

"Come on Bruenor, let me have a bit o' fun," Ranoth teased looking slightly to one side acknowledging that he was talking to him.
"Well why let the drow have all the killing?" Bruenor answered as he ran to the nearest drow thief, and before the drow could react he had an axe stuck deep in it's skull.
"Bruenor, you idiotic killer! Look at this mess your making, all this blood on you and the ground and the-"
"Turn around ye durned fool!" Bruenor yelled. Ranoth spun around and saw the last of the drow was a sorceress conjuring what was most likely something fire related. She wove intricate patterns with her fingers while speaking long foreign words and finally a bright flash of light erupted from her fingers, and came hurtling toward Ranoth. He did the only thing he could in the bright light; duck. He felt a wave of heat blast over his head, and hit the cavern wall in a short blast of flame. Ranoth charged ran into the sorceress at full speed and stabbed his dagger forward and around clockwise to stab the drow in the back and pulled back, the dagger slipping easily out of the flesh and clothing of the sorceress. Not quite dead, Ranoth stabbed his katana into the center of the drow’s torso, and twisting making a sickening sound of cracking bones and gurgling of blood. He pulled the katana out and used a loose end of his tunic to wipe the blood away from his weapons, Bruenor doing the same but a worse job, but it didn’t matter on his durable weapon.
“Bruenor, next time let me have more fun! I feel left out because I’m not killing enough!” Ranoth teased Bruenor.
“Come on, hurry up!” Bruenor yelled at Ranoth and started to sing, “We’re off to kill the witch, the horrible witch of Menzoberrazan…”